


The Question of Hate

by Brithna



Series: The Harper Series [1]
Category: Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 17:41:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brithna/pseuds/Brithna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poke-the-Dragon Comment Fic-a-thon! This story is for Vendetta17 and is based on her prompt ‘This is why I could never hate you.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Question of Hate

The garish quality of the clothing choices made by the general populace always amazed Miranda. It was as if almost no one could pull together a decent outfit. Bargain bin or not, no one had style. Even a pair of shorts and t-shirt could be put together in a non-garish way if one tried hard enough. It was about more than a label after all…but so few realized that. Yet there were a few exceptions. Take this girl behind the counter for instance. The dress was blatantly off the rack but it was not entirely horrible, especially accompanied by those heels. It certainly could have been worse. She was even resourceful enough to add in comparable costume jewelry that accented the outfit and brought everything together perfectly. See? It wasn’t that hard and the girl had probably only spent seventy-five dollars…possibly less, on the whole affair. Style really could be accomplished with very little. It was all a matter of trying.

“Will this be all for you today?” The girl in the ‘not entirely horrible’ dress asked as she bagged Miranda’s purchases.

“Yes…wait. These two bookmarks as well. One can never have enough of those…especially not in my home.” Miranda tossed two bookmarks with a tie-died print onto the counter and the girl rang them up. She had only intended this to be a quick trip to the bookstore for the girls but had been here for a solid hour. Roy was no doubt circling the block for the twentieth time. But that was alright. It was his job after-all, just as this bi-weekly bookstore trip to keep the girls stocked with fresh reading material was Miranda’s job. And since Miranda was not about to leave the book choices up to Emily or _Emily_ ; it was a necessary evil that could not be helped.  

Loaded down with not one but two bags of books Miranda texted Roy and informed him she would meet him down the street. There was a decent coffee house around the corner and a cup of coffee was sounding better with every step. Miranda ordered her drink and pulled out a biography from one of the two bags to read the dust jacket again while she waited. Hopefully she would enjoy this one. She probably would…it was Margret Thatcher after all. Then she heard it…that familiar laugh that really wasn’t familiar at all but she did recognize it. It was Emily.

Miranda took her coffee and turned slowly. She knew Emily did not live in this section of town and wondered what she was doing all the way over here…and what in God’s name was she doing with that baby? Suddenly Emily looked up and their eye’s met. Well now Miranda certainly couldn’t just walk away as planned. Especially not now…when Emily was looking at her like that. Granted Emily always regarded Miranda with a look of horror mixed with admiration…but this was different. She was genuinely panicked.

Miranda sighed and made her way over to Emily’s table. She was alone with the except of the baby of course. It was a girl, no more than six months old. “Good afternoon Emily. I assume you are having a delightful Saturday?”

“Uh…yes. Yes, Miranda. Fancy meeting you here.” She smiled weakly and maneuvered the child in her arms to a more comfortable position.

“Yes, fancy indeed. Emily, correct me if I am wrong…I would hate to assume but this child is not yours is it?”

“No…a friends. I am merely keeping her for a few hours. My…friend had to attend to some work.”

“Ah…I thought not. She is definitely beautiful. She has a name?”

“Yes…she does. Harper…Harper Elizabeth.” Emily face grew serious and she actually covered the tiny girl’s ears as if she could hear her. “I’m not particularly fond of it but alas I did not get a vote.”

“Hm…it _is_ different. Which is actually refreshing since everyone is named Paris, or Ashley, or something else equally ridiculous these days.” Actually it was beautiful. “She is what? Six months old?”

“Seven.” Emily seemed to be growing a little uncomfortable and Miranda surmised her welcome was up. But then Harper looked at Miranda with the most expressive brown eyes…and then she reached out. Emily gasped.

“Well she appears to have good taste in company.” Miranda returned the gesture and Harper gripped two of her fingers like a vice. This gave Miranda a strange feeling. It was pulling sensation not unlike the one she experienced with her own children. Speaking of which, there was Roy to consider. Probably making his thirtieth trip around the block. Miranda pulled away and Emily looked at her watch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I must be off. Harper and I are due back. It was nice to see you…outside, Miranda.” Emily stood with Harper and nodded her goodbye. Harper’s eyes remained fixed on Miranda the whole time.

“Yes, I will see you on Monday, Emily.” With that they were gone. Miranda headed out the door after them and they went in opposite direction. Thankfully Roy was just outside patiently waiting. “Roy, circle around the block again.” Miranda said as he got into the car. Why she wanted to do this was beyond her but she had to know…she had to know who that child belonged to and something told her that all she needed to do was travel the block to find out.

They circled around and Miranda almost gave up, assuming that maybe Emily had crossed the street at some point but then she spotted her red hair. “Slow down Roy.” Roy obeyed and slowed to a near stop while Miranda continued to watch…and watch. Harper seemed to be asleep over her shoulder…and then there was someone else. Emily stopped…there was some exchange, conversation, then Emily handed the child over. To Andrea. “Go Roy…quickly. Go.”

Miranda bit her lip. This was certainly unexpected. On many levels. Yet it made sense. Harpers eyes…her lips. Yes, that was indeed Andrea’s child. There was no doubt about it. Perhaps she was married now…the prospect of _that_ made Miranda ill with jealousy. Which was preposterous. Why on Earth would that cause such a reaction in her? Miranda pushed that away and turned her mind back to Harper. She wanted to know more. Emily would not want to come forth with information but Emily would just have to get over it. Miranda would have her information just like she got every other thing she wanted.

But there was one thing Miranda did _not_ have that she desperately had wanted for a very long time. Andrea. She had wanted her back and was only just now beginning to not think about her incessantly. The third new _Emily_ was passable. It was deeper than that though. Miranda did not miss her _assistant_. She missed Andrea. She missed the calming effect she had over Miranda. She missed her smile…her eyes. Both of which she had just seen in Harper. Both of which, she wanted to see again…and not just in Harper this time.

***

“Emily.” Miranda called out and the Brit came rushing in. It had been clear to Miranda first thing that morning that Emily had no idea that Miranda had seen her hand Harper back to her mother the previous Saturday. That was about to change. “Close the door Emily and sit.” Emily closed the door and cautiously sat down across from Miranda. Miranda took a deep breath and leaned back in her chair with steepled hands. Her own desire for privacy told her that this whole business was none of her own and that she shouldn’t pry but she couldn’t help it. Privacy would just have to be put on hold for a moment.

“Emily, who is Harper’s mother?”

Emily instantly deflated and closed her eyes briefly. “Miranda…”

“I saw you Emily. Afterward.”

“Oh, bloody hell.” This time she covered her eyes with a hand. “Miranda, I can’t…”

“Very well. That is all I really wanted to know. You may go.” Emily quickly rose from her chair but then Miranda felt compelled to say more. “Wait. Did you tell her that you saw me?”

“Yes.”

“How did she react?” When Emily hesitated Miranda continued. “Emily, I mean her no harm. I assure you.”

  1. “Fine…fine. Not well…but not as bad as I expected. I’m sorry but you know the two of you did not part on good terms.”   



“I’m well aware of that fact. When you say her reaction was not as bad as you expected, what do you mean?”

“I thought she would be…angry. God, why am I telling you this?” Emily took a deep breath and went on. “She was more concerned with how you and Harper reacted toward one another and then she dropped it.”

“Yes?”

“Yes. That was it.”

“Alright. Have the new girl get coffee. That’s all.”

“Miranda, please do not mention this to Nigel or anyone else for that matter. He has no idea and I’d rather him find out from her if she wishes it. She is…very private and has her reasons.”

“Certainly.”

Miranda had about fifty more questions but that was all she or Emily could handle for now. Besides if she pressed Emily too far too soon she was liable to clam up.

A few days later Miranda got a surprise. She was in a horrible mood, drowning in a re-shoot from hell and for some insane reason Emily chose that particular moment to bring up the subject again all by herself.

“Your coffee, Miranda.” Emily set the coffee down and stood still.

“What Emily? Are your feet set in concrete? Do you have nothing to do besides stand here and stare?” Miranda said impatiently.

“I wanted…I have no idea why I am telling you this but I wanted you to know that she takes Harper to the market in her neighbor hood every Saturday morning. She has an odd love for homemade jam and fresh fruit these days. Anyway…Saturday, usually around eight o’clock. She’s not hard to notice since she just _has_ to say hello to all the vendors.”

“Well…thank-you Emily.” Miranda did not know what else to say and she could hardly even look her in the eye. This was most unexpected.

“I know that you have more questions; that’s why I’m telling you this. Don’t make me regret it. Please.”

“You won’t. Thank you for this Emily.”

***

For the next several days Miranda was in a constant state of confusion and worry. She really shouldn’t be doing this, contemplating stalking the girl at a farmers-market…of all the things to do.  And why? Why did she even want to do it in the first place? It had been well over a year yet she could not get the girl out of her head. Not completely anyway. Never completely. Never mind that she walked out and left Miranda high and dry when she needed Andrea the most. Never mind that she never actually gave a damn about fashion to begin with. Never mind that she…well.

Saturday morning Miranda dressed and headed to this farmers-market on her very first stalker mission. Hopefully she would not get arrested. Hopefully Andrea would be open to at least talking. About what Miranda did not know. Perhaps they could converse on the topic of jam…after all Emily had said she was rather fond of it these days.

Oh, for the love of God… Miranda slammed the door to her Jeep Cherokee and headed off. That’s right. A jeep. When she didn’t want to be noticed at the drop of a hat, the Jeep was her preferred method of transportation. It seemed to work well when the paparazzi was on the hunt for fresh pictures…like in the height of the divorce proceedings. Thank God that mess was over. For now it was perfect for stalking.

Twenty minutes later Miranda parked about a block away from the market and slowly began picking her way through the crowd. If she remembered correctly Andrea’s apartment was only a block or so from here. It was eight. Where was she?

Thirty minutes later Miranda had managed to spend about 40 dollars. Coffee, tomatoes, peppers, strawberries, blah, blah, blah…and here…here she is. Miranda spotted her a few booths over doing exactly what Emily said she would be doing. Buying jam. She was facing Miranda but had yet to take notice. Harper however, perhaps it was just Miranda’s imagination but the little girl seemed to…notice her? Perhaps.

“Miranda?”

Great. Fabulous way to pay attention, Miranda. “Yes...hello.” And of course who could forget Harper sitting here in her stroller. “Hello, Harper.” There was no need to pretend she didn’t know the child. Harper responded in kind. Rather loudly and reached out her hand just as she had several days ago.

“It’s okay…it’s…it’s nice to see you Miranda.”

Miranda bent down and Harper took quick possession of her fingers just as she had their previous meeting. “It’s good to see you too, Andrea. I see you are doing well.” She looked up and Andrea was smiling down on her like nothing bad had ever happened between them. Miranda did not see how that was humanly possible but then again this was Andrea and she could do anything. Right?

“Yeah, I’m okay. We’re okay. Emily told me you saw her…and Harper.”

Miranda stood up and Harper began to protest. Rather loudly. “Yes, she is quite vocal.” Miranda regarded the child with a raised eyebrow. Harper just stared right back and continued to be noisy.

“You can pick her up if you want. That’s probably what she’s after. I think she likes you.”

“I can’t imagine why…” Miranda bent back down without hesitation and unbuckled her from the stroller. “If you ruin my blouse, you owe me about two days of work young lady.” Miranda picked her up and Harper sighed contently the way only a seven month old can. It was…adorable.

Andrea laughed at Miranda’s threat of child labor. “Oh, I’m sure she’d love that. There would be drool for miles and then she would fall asleep on your expensive couch and it would never be the same.”

“Of that I have no doubt. Shall we?” Miranda motioned forward with a free hand and they began making their way through the masses.

“Tell me something Miranda. What are you going to do when someone sees you holding a baby and snaps a photo?”

“What everyone else does when they’re having their picture taken with a baby…smile, wave, something like that.”

“Hm, okay. I like my privacy...just so you are aware.”

That was a warning. A clear cut, protective mother warning. “We’ll be careful. If something happens I’ll take care of it.”

“Good. And what are you going to do when someone sees you with me? The ex-assistant who ran out on you…yet you failed to black-ball from the publishing industry?”

“Oh, smile…wave…something like that.”

“Hm, if you say so. What have you been up to these days? Let me have your bags.” Andrea took her bags and threw them into the now empty stroller.

“Besides work and my twelve year old daughters who think they’re wise beyond their years? No a lot. I’m now divorced as I’m sure you know…let’s stop here.” Gourmet dog treats were always a hit with Patricia.

“Yeah I might have heard about that…everything else going okay? Here...let me take her while you look.” Andrea reached for Harper but Miranda declined.

“It’s fine. I had two at once. Negotiating one is a treat compared to what I am used to…was used to at any rate.” Miranda picked out several treats and pulled the money from her pocket all the while keeping Harper’s hands out of everything. When the vendor made an off handed comment about how the treats were safe for kids…well the glare Miranda gave him as enough to send Andrea into hysterics.

“That was hilarious. The look on your face…” Andrea kept laughing as they walked away. Miranda was no impressed.

“No. It was _not_. Honestly how barbaric.” Really, the nerve of the man to suggest such a vile thing. Miranda tossed her newest purchase into the stroller and held Harper a little tighter as if he was still in front of her suggesting the child eat a dog treat. Disgusting.

“He was probably just joking around with you.” She felt Andrea pat her on the back. Miranda could never ever remember being intentionally touched by the girl before.

“That hardly matters.”

They were quiet for a while and continued to pick their way through the crowd making purchases as they went. It was all far more comfortable than Miranda imagined it would be. The distraction of having Harper there was a great help most likely since Miranda’s attention was drawn there instead of on the many questions she had. By ten though, Harper was passed out in Miranda’s arms and that left little to do which meant they were probably headed toward more conversation.

“Why don’t we chill out over here for a while?” Andrea pointed to a little café with tables outside. It seemed agreeable enough so Miranda nodded and soon they were seated. Harper had not stirred and Miranda was content to let her stay as she was. Andrea ordered them ice tea and then they sat in more silence. Finally Miranda realized she had to say something, anything.

“Tell me, what have you been up to? Besides this?” Miranda gestured down to Harper with her chin as she held her.

“Working…The Mirror. That’s about it.”

“You’re being very vague, Andrea. Surely someone such as yourself is busy doing much more than that. Thought perhaps not. Small people tend to take up ones time in ways that are hardly imaginable.”

“Ha, small people…I like that. I’m sorry if I sound vague, this is all just a bit surprising. You, here with me. Tell me something Miranda. Did Emily tell you I would be here? I find it hard to believe you would come all this way to shop for peppers and dog treats.”

“She did.” Miranda straightened in her chair. This was getting uncomfortable.

“I’m going to kill her.” Andrea said as she bit her lip.

“Would you rather I leave?”

Andrea rolled her eyes. “Miranda, you will do whatever it is you want to do. That’s your way. I can’t begin to imagine _why_ you’re here…but I _can_ say that it is nice. Which weird’s me out even more. Do I want to know why you’re here?”

“Taking into account that _I’m_ not even sure why I’m here…I highly doubt it.”

Again another eye roll. “I really don’t know what to say to that Miranda.”

“There isn’t anything to say.”

“Why are you always so damn cryptic? You are you know...cryptic. I can’t be the only one that’s ever told you that. Am I?”

“I am _not_ cryptic.”

Again they sat in silence _again_ and tried to enjoy another glass of tea. It was anything but easy. Miranda felt like something horrible was coming and she was merely sitting here waiting for it. Whatever it was Miranda hoped they could just get past it and move on.

“You haven’t asked me the question yet.” Andrea all but whispered across the table.

“I’m sorry what?”

She leaned closer now looking very serious. “You haven’t asked me the question.”

“What question? I hate to admit it but I am hardly a mind reader.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you don’t want to know who the father is…or if I’m married.” Andrea gave her a ‘get real’ look and sat back waiting for Miranda’s response.

“Andrea, as you have already indicated, you are a very private person as of late and I can certainly sympathize with that. Whether I want to know those things or not is of no consequence. You will tell me _what_ you want to tell me, _when_ you want to tell me…if ever. That is strictly up to you. I’ll only go so far as to say that whoever the father is- he is certainly a lucky man.”

“How very noble of you.”

“You seem intent on getting angry.” Indeed. The further this went the darker Andrea’s eyes became which had always been a clear sign of her mood.

“I’m not married.”

“Many women with children are not. What of it.” That was not the cause of Andrea’s issue here. Miranda knew better.

“ _You_ would say that...of course you would.”

“Andrea, I am not quite sure what you want from me.” She expected Andrea to lash out again but she didn’t. Instead she shut down and grew quiet again. Miranda decided to allow her to wallow in whatever it was she needed to wallow in for a while and concentrated on Harper again. She was sleeping soundly, making a sucking noise with her mouth and lips sometimes. And sighing…always sighing. Miranda took her napkin and dotted the girls tiny lips to remove the ever present drool that threatened Miranda’s blouse. So far Harper owed her no work but the day wasn’t over yet. Miranda kept observing her face, noting how very much she looked like her mother. God, what Miranda would have given to see Andrea pregnant. Strange but true. She was probably the most gorgeous thing alive. Well in truth she already was…but pregnant? It would have been more than Miranda could stand. Just as Miranda started brushing Harpers short silky hair back off her forehead, she looked up. Andrea was crying. This had to end. Either she talked or Miranda beat it out of her, one way or another. “What is it? Something is wrong.”

“Oh, God Miranda. I don’t know if I can…” Andrea wiped her eyes but it didn’t do much good because the tears kept coming. “You are so going to hate me…so, so, so going to hate me.”

“Andrea…if this is about Paris – “

“Ah…God.” Andrea cried harder for a moment and Miranda was beginning to think she was going to have to put Harper down and do some serious consoling. “Miranda…have you bothered to do the math here?”

Yes…yes she had but kept herself from thinking of it too often. “Yes. I have. I assume you were pregnant then?”

“No…well…yes.” Okay, that didn’t make much sense. “Miranda…” Again with more tears and more wiping.

“Andrea, calm down…”

“Do you want to know Miranda?”

“Do you want me to know?”

“Yes…yes I do. It’s going to kill me but yes I want you to know.” Miranda was holding her breath now and trying hard not to grip Harper any tighter. For some strange reason she felt as if the child was about to be ripped straight out of her arms. “Miranda that night…when you found out about the divorce…I was so angry with you. So angry. All I wanted was to be there for you but you of course wouldn’t have it.” She teared up again and Miranda realized she was in serious danger of doing so as well. That night had been utterly horrible, and not only because of the divorce. Her own behavior did plenty in the way of ruining the night...obviously for both of them. “Anyway…there is much, much more to this than what I’m about to tell you…but the rest will have to wait. The point is…the point is I slept with Christian that night.”

And there it was. There was the answer. This child, this beautiful, precious child that Miranda now held so tightly against her chest was the daughter of the one and only Christian Thompson. And yes, now she was crying. Right in the middle of this side-walk café, in the middle of New York City, _Miranda Priestly_ was crying. This entire mess was her doing…all of it. Andrea leaving, more importantly Andrea sleeping with Christian. Miranda knew it without having to be told. If she had just been kinder, honest; none of this would have ever happened. But then…Miranda looked down at Harper again and brushed a tear off of her chubby little cheek. If all that had not happened, there would be no Harper. Miranda finally looked back up and Andrea was mostly under control again. Seeing this she realized her own tears needed to get dried up so she put her napkin to work to repair the damage. After a moment she was ready to speak again. “Andrea…you thought I would hate you for that…for this?” she motioned to Harper again with her chin.

“Yes, yes I did.”

“And that is why you’ve kept this so quiet? You wanted no one to know…he does not know?”

That protective tone was back. “ _Yes,_ that is why I kept it quiet and _no_ he does not know. You must never say anything Miranda…to anyone. Please.”

“You know me better than that. Or you should.” Miranda would just as soon kill Christian as see him lay one finger on this child. “You think I could hate you for this?” Again she motioned to Harper and rocked her as she stirred.

“Not so much _her_ … but for Christian.” Andrea started to tear up again slightly.

“Andrea. Oh, dear God.” Miranda paused and tilted her head back forcing her tears to retreat. Looking back she captured Andrea’s gaze and held it. “Andrea, I could never hate you for that. Never. I can see how you might think that I would but honestly…I am not as horrible as that. I could never…” Andrea visibly seemed to relax and Miranda breathed a sigh of relief. Of all the things…Miranda lifted Harper close and kissed her forehead. No, never could she hate this child or the reason for her presence. It was simply an inconceivable idea.

“I’m glad. Really.” Again they fell into another bout of silence, this time it was more comfortable with no underlying tension between them. Now and again they would look at each other briefly and occasionally Miranda could feel Andrea’s gaze on her as she continually stared at Harper.  “Miranda can I ask you something?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“Can we do this again? Can I see you again? I would like that.” Andrea reached across the table and held out her hand.

Miranda leaned forward and grasped it firmly. “Yes, I would like that very much. I would to get to know you…get closer.” Miranda swallowed hard and waited. Hopefully she would get the answer she wanted.

“Me too. I’ve always wanted that. It just couldn’t happen before.” Andrea smiled and squeezed Miranda’s hand. She knew exactly what Andrea meant and she was right. No matter how horrible the whole mess had been; this child, this day here in this farmers-market would have never happened if it had not been for Paris.

Finally they separated and leaned back, enjoying each other’s company and the knowledge of what was to come.

THE END


End file.
